


the trajectory of trojan asteroids

by redpaint



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Epistolary, M/M, Science Fiction, Space Flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpaint/pseuds/redpaint
Summary: SpaceX is proud to announce that reigning Formula 1 World Driver's Champion Nico Rosberg will be the captain of our two-year, all-electric Mars reconnaissance mission.(A captain's log.)
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton & Nico Rosberg, Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg
Comments: 30
Kudos: 43





	the trajectory of trojan asteroids

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babypapaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babypapaya/gifts).



> for babypapaya. I know you love space and you love brocedes.

_Captain’s Recording #1: 09012017_

Hey, Lewis. How are you?

I assume you’re good. Better than good, probably. Great is a better word for you. You’re at your best when you’re winning, and that should be no problem for you now.

I’m — Well, I’m sure you saw the pictures on Instagram, if you still follow me. Obviously I can’t post from up here but the Tesla guys were really into the promotion leading up to launch day — I think they were just glad to have a face for the campaign. Whatever, it’s a small price to pay for doing something so cool, I just thought it might be worth sending you something.

It’s been strange not talking to you for so long. Sure, we didn’t do a lot of talking there at the end, but at least the opportunity was always there, wasn’t it? The door was always left open a few inches, just a crack. Depending on how you think about it, the door is now either pretty closed, because I’m halfway to Mars, or it’s open because I can record these messages, and you can’t interrupt me or say you’re busy or anything. I can just talk and then you get to decide if you want to listen, I guess. Like the door is open but there’s nobody waiting on the other side.

Sorry, I don’t really know what I’m on about. The thing they didn’t tell me about space is that it’s boring — like, seriously, seriously boring. There’s a lot more nothing than there is something and I get to sit in the biggest, fanciest chair and pretend like I’m doing something while the computer keeps us on the right path. I might as well be in the world’s most isolated, most high-tech office — just fill out the occasional form and try to look busy, don’t fight with your coworkers since there’s literally nowhere else to go. At least we had our own cars when it got really bad. Like of course it’s amazing, I feel lucky — but even the cool stuff can get boring, and I’m worried I might lose my head. It’s like I’m waiting for some kind of _moment_ that will tell me it’s all been worth it, but I guess I’ve got a lot of time to wait.

It’s not exactly a different city every other weekend, you know? A different set of stars outside the window, sure, but they all look a little similar. Orbit’s kind of like racing on the biggest oval in the galaxy, right? We pulled some pretty insane g-forces on take-off, but we’ve been cruising comfortably ever since. The stress on your body isn’t nothing, but it’s slow enough that you’ll get bored before you get sore.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t come as too much of a surprise — the message, not the stuff about space. I do hope that bit comes as a surprise — I mean, that’s the point. I have to give you some reason to listen to this. I just hope you don’t just trash this message as soon as you get it.

Look, I’m just trying to stay sane — though if I’m talking to you again that might not be the best sign. If nothing else, this recorder isn’t afraid of me. You said you weren’t scared of me, too, repeatedly, as often as you could. And half the crew up here are fanboys and the other half don’t trust me to not destroy the ship without close supervision. Even if you don’t like me, at least you know me, and that’s enough for now.

  


« » 

  


_Captain’s Recording #2: 10032017_

Do you think you would like space? I don’t think you would. You always liked your freedom, and there are only so many places to go and so many things to do on a ship like this, like the longest plane ride ever. You’d probably pitch a fit, but it’s not like staying on earth is too bad for you or anything. Maybe this is just the kind of adventure you do when you’re retired to deflect questions, who knows.

I don’t know why I’m even recording you another message, I doubt you even listened to the first one. But look, I’m being normal, just like you always wanted us to be. You always acted like it was normal, like barely looking at each other was normal. Let’s see how much mileage we can get out of it.

But I didn’t just talk to bitch about us. I really did spend the first few weeks on board wishing you were here. And maybe being cooped up in an intergalactic tin can would be hell but we both knew nobody really understood what we went through except each other. I’m a celebrity guest, even though they call me captain. It’s weird, weird in a way I think you would understand.

I think they would have liked to have you here, too. Add a little more star power to the trip. I almost feel like the cop-out here — it’s not like I was doing anything else. But it’s still nice for the headlines, isn’t it? “Reigning world champion to captain groundbreaking electric spacecraft.” I bet they like the sound of it. They try and teach me stuff about the ship, but it’s probably more out of boredom on their part than anything. I’m still hopeless when it comes to anything more hands-on than technical drawings or flight theory. I always feel like I’m playing on their turf.

Do you remember the way it felt when we traveled without our parents for the first time? That’s kind of what this feels like. There’s enough bureaucracy and people acting like they know what they’re doing that it can feel normal, but when it’s quiet I can’t help feeling like it’s really fucking weird. And that’s when I think it would be nice to have you here — you would understand it, just a little. Whether we could even talk about how weird it is without making it into some kind of competition for normalcy is another question.

Anyway, I always thought we were good at eking out what was ours, for the smallest moments, even when the world was demanding everything from us. We found those little pockets to share between us. Well, I’m recording this from the flight deck, and outside all I see are stars, more than you could ever believe, and the crew is asleep. If you were here, could we feel like all these stars were ours? Could we even manage it? I’m not sure.

Would this view be mine? Yours? Would we fight over it?

If we couldn’t do teammates I’m not sure we could do co-captains, and I think feeling so cooped up and useless might drive you insane, but a selfish part of me wants you here anyway. Just to force the issue. Just to see if we can.

  


« » 

  


_Captain’s Recording #3: 10272017_

It’s weird to keep talking when I don’t hear anything back, but that never really stopped me before, did it? I was always pitching olive branches in your direction, making a nice little bed of kindling wherever they ended up. Let’s just call this an exercise in selfishness, then. I’ll try talking without trying to calculate the best way to say it beforehand, and maybe something of substance will finally come out. You always hated the politeness anyway.

I heard that you sealed the championship again — I didn’t expect anything different, you being you, but still. Congratulations. It’s not easy. It’s never easy, even when you don’t have some talented, handsome blonde asshole trying his best to stop you. I miss the progression of the season, the way it all built up to something, even when it was disappointment. It beats monotony, that’s for sure.

Even if I can’t be there, I hope you let yourself celebrate. You never let yourself get too crazy, and I knew why. I got it, why you couldn’t, but if I hadn’t let it all out after Abu Dhabi I think the emotion would have split me open from the inside out. Maybe you’re made of harder stuff, but I’ve known you long enough to think that’s not really true. I want to see pictures of you doing something stupid. Not to make fun of you, we both know I’ve got plenty of dirt already, but just to know you can do it. Maybe they’ll send one up with the uploads of important documents. Maybe I’ll request it, they have to listen to the captain, right?

Wrong. They won’t let me make any of my own decisions up here — and it’s probably for the best, really, but you don’t realize how much you value spontaneity until it’s gone. When every decision needs three or four cross-checks, you start to feel like not doing anything at all. Maybe that’s why I’m talking to you at all. At least we’re something no one else gets a say in, not anymore.

Four time world champion — it does have a nice sound to it. I never liked “reigning.” It’s always a title you have to be prepared to lose. You’re always losing it, as soon as you get it. And the only thing sadder than losing it is trying so hard not to and failing. Maybe not trying is cowardly, but I saw what it did to you. I wasn’t about to put myself through that.

So let’s just say I’m loudly and proudly running away from that fight. Getting as far away from it as I can, further than anyone else has been. It’s a different kind of mountain to climb, and I know I’ve done nothing but complain about it, but I really think it’s worth it. Both of us, we’re doing what we really want now. It’s nice when your dreams don’t hang over you like some kind of knife.

Congratulations again. From your most long-distance fan.

  


« » 

  


_Captain’s Recording #4: 11032017_

We passed one of the trojan asteroids today. It’s just a bit of rock from god-knows-where, but there’s a whole infinity plane out here and coming up alongside something in all that black was — I don’t know what it was.

The thing about trojans is that they’re not really in orbit like we know it. They follow the same spiraling patterns over and over, but just shifted over a little every time, pulled on a path through space by the gravity of one of the larger objects. This one, it’s being pulled by Mars — not really orbiting, but traveling. Kind of like us. I know we’re heading back to earth one day, but our head astronomer says that they still don’t know where trojans like that end up. We’re just lucky to be crossing paths.

Seeing it — I don’t really know what it was. I just burst into tears right here in this chair, like full-on sobbing, like I was a child again. And it was strange to think that if you were here I might not have cried at all. That I wouldn’t have let myself. You’ve seen me cry more than anyone else except maybe my dad, and I still wouldn’t give that to you.

It felt wrong, like if I had let that happen I would be stealing something from myself.

We only had it in our sights for a few hours. Maybe it’s growing up on a planet that ingrains the primacy of orbit, maybe it’s the lifetime of going around in circles as quick as we could, but our paths diverged pretty quick and then there was no chance of being that close to it again, and — I don’t know. Something happened.

There are kinds of unknown that aren’t just a product of laziness or imperfect information. There are kinds too big for us to even start in on. It’s a kind of perspective.

  


« » 

  


_Captain’s Recording #5: 11182017_

It’s so dark out here. I think we’re somewhere a long way off between stars, maybe hunkered down in the long shadow of a distant planet. I can’t tell — we have a navigator but I still haven’t figured out what any of the maps mean. Anyway, in the darkness the autopilot isn’t as good, and I’ve had to spend a lot more time on the deck just looking out the front and trying to pick any hazards out of the pool of black. Not the most stimulating stuff.

This isn’t even as dark as it gets. Did you know the Milky Way is surrounded by the biggest cosmic void in the known universe? I couldn’t stop thinking about that trojan, about what would happen if it left our galaxy behind, what it would find out there, in the darkness. Absolutely nothing, no other bodies for half a billion light years.

So I asked the astronomer and apparently I was wrong about it — it does have a full orbit, it’s just longer than we know how to measure. It only looks linear because the scale of our maps makes the path practically tangent to the true curve, but if we were able to zoom out completely, we would see it come back around eventually. I say we as though it won’t happen long after humans are gone probably, but still. I heard that and I slept soundly for the first time in a week. At least they were generous when they budgeted for whiskey.

I always hated drinking around you. You wouldn’t say anything, but I knew you found it — distasteful. And the not saying anything was somehow worse. I could just imagine what you’d say. But when I was drunk I always wanted to spite you anyway, and I never had trouble holding my tongue then, did I? Imagine that, getting drunk and talking to someone who doesn’t respond with anything but polite silence. _Ha._

You know, I always thought our worst times were always on planes. Between our headphones and looking out the windows, we could sit five feet apart and pretend like nothing was really wrong. I would watch the ground and the clouds rush by underneath us and think, “When’s he going to realize how bad he fucked us up. Does he even know? Does he just not care?” — shit like that.

It was just so easy to hate you when we didn’t talk. It gave me too much time to think about the things I would say. And I’ve tried saying them, trust me, a couple of these tapes are getting worn out with the things I’ve thought about saying, but honestly they come out sounding like lines on a script I’ve been writing and I just tape over them.

I’ve tried blaming you but that just leaves me on the other side of the door, you know — too proud to even reach for the handle and choking on the smoke of olive branches.

It’s just wrong. I’m tired of wanting to do something. I’m tired of waiting around. I need some fucking sleep.

  


« » 

  


_Captain’s Recording #6: 12312017_

Today was — I don’t know. It was so crazy, I felt like I had to talk to somebody. And well, everyone on the ship either knows what happened or can’t know. I’m honestly lucky to even be sitting here, talking at this thing, wondering again how you are.

We had a leak in one of the pressure pumps a few hours ago. It was one of those things where the problem sneaks around for a while before being found out. By the time one of the engineers figured out what was going on, it was critical. And I was standing outside the atmospheric control room, watching them work on the circuits, and I couldn’t stop thinking about — how there could be no next time, no re-do. If they didn’t get it figured out, we couldn’t just wheel the whole ship back into the garage, you know?

It’s not like how you think it would be. If you even let yourself think about it.

I wasn’t even sure whether I could even tell you, to be honest I was worried you might think I’m trying to one-up you somehow, show you that I’m actually risking life and limb like some kind of space cowboy, but you know I never liked the danger. Well, if you’re mad at me I can’t hear it. We’re moving at around twenty-five thousand miles per hour, so it’s just a little faster the speed of sound.

See — you’re going to think I’m bragging again. Maybe I am. Maybe I want to see you impressed again. I don’t think it would kill you.

You were always better under pressure than I was. Maybe because you don’t believe in redos. I didn’t realize how scary that can be until I watched them working. My hands were shaking, even though I never even touched the broken part. I just stood there like an idiot, and I even started laughing, thinking about how that degree in aerospace engineering could really have come in handy, you know? Thankfully they figured it out before we had to start the evacuation procedures, but Jesus — it was hard to believe I wouldn’t get another go at it. If it all fell apart. If it all ended like that.

Sorry, that’s kind of dark. I guess I’ve had a little too long to think up here.

There’s something childish about all this, isn’t there? I mean, who doesn’t want to be an astronaut as a kid? You don’t think about critical failures then, do you? What might go wrong? Why would you, when it’s just a crazy dream?

  


« » 

  


_Captain’s Recording #7: 01292018_

I think it’s just — it’s nice to talk. We used to talk. All night. Like we couldn’t get enough words out, like we were scared we were going to run out of time. And they would tell us to sleep but talking about where we would end up was more exciting, even though we said the same thing every time. I feel kind of like that now. Just talking when I can’t sleep, imagining what you might say, if you’d seen the thing I’ve seen.

We’ve both changed — we’re not kids anymore. Hell, I’m going to come back with 5% less bone mass than I left with. It sounds cliché as hell but you don’t grow when you’re comfortable and it’s taken a year and a some near-death experiences and fucking a fucking _Tesla space mission_ but I’m finally uncomfortable and I’m ready for things to change. I wonder, have you changed? Does it throw the equilibrium off, me not being there?

There was a reason we stuck together. Even when we hated each other. Looping around and around like unfortunate space rocks locked in orbit. Deep down I always thought we just needed some distance and we could go back to how we were. Maybe thirty million miles is enough to test that hypothesis.

I don’t really know what you’re thinking about down there. I don’t even know if you actually won the championship this year, I just guessed. I figured you would. If I could actually send messages like this I’m not sure I would have the guts. Knowing I can’t somehow makes it easier. The talking. That’s a bad sign, isn’t it? What are the chances that I toss these tapes into the incinerator before we get back?

I don’t want you to have to wait like I’m waiting. When you hear this — if you hear this — I want to be there. I’m tired of this silence, I’ve had enough silence out here to last me a lifetime. I’ve seen what a vacuum looks like. It’s not the presence of silence, it’s just absence. Nothing can — nothing should live there. And when I come back, well, maybe on Earth the air will be good enough for me to say the things that really matter. Maybe it will be good enough for you, too. I’m not giving up that opportunity. Come and find me. No matter where I am I’ll be closer than I am now. Tell me if the distance was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! I can't believe I finally wrote brocedes in the most roundabout way possible.
> 
> tumblr - redpaint
> 
> kudos/comments are much, much, much appreciated


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